


A New Breadth of Things

by artenon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, First Time, Other, Past Rape/Non-con, Porn with Feelings, Tender Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 07:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20354818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: “Just part of the job description,” Crowley said, aiming for casual. “Never sought it out for pleasure.” Hadn’t thought hecouldfind pleasure in it, not with all his other experiences with it.“I know it can be good,” he said. “I want to try and make it good, and you’re the only one I want to do it with.”--Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley have ever had sex that they've wanted and enjoyed. But they know that it can be good, and they want very much to make it good for one another.





	A New Breadth of Things

**Author's Note:**

> MIND THE TAGS!! some clarifications-
> 
> in this fic, both aziraphale and crowley have experienced instances of non- or dub-con in the past (crowley with various humans and demons; aziraphale with various humans and gabriel).
> 
> there is no noncon between aziraphale/crowley, and consent between the two is repeatedly affirmed throughout this fic. additionally, both of them have a vulva in this fic for no reason beyond me the author wanting them to, and they can both change their genitalia at will (they discuss this briefly). i use he/him pronouns for both throughout.
> 
> \--
> 
> this is a kink meme fill! it is also unbetaed.
> 
> "Neither of [Aziraphale/Crowley] has ever had sex in any way that's felt better than a chore to be done. But they know that it *can* be good, and they want, very badly, to do that with each other, and to make it good for one another.
> 
> [...] What I'm really looking for, though, is the tender, careful sex between two people who have only very technically done this before, and for whom pleasure and fun are very new aspects."
> 
> full prompt here: ([x](https://good-omens-kink.dreamwidth.org/616.html?thread=681576#cmt681576)) 
> 
> this prompt had me in a DEATH GRIP and i hope i delivered in a way that satisfies!

They were kissing.

They’d been kissing a lot lately. Crowley was a fan. Before kissing, there’d been hand-holding and light touches. Fingers curled around Crowley’s arm as they strolled through the park. Crowley’s hand at the small of Aziraphale’s back as he guided him through a museum. Things like that.

Crowley liked the closeness. He’d worried he wouldn’t, that he’d grown too paranoid from the crowd of Hell, the feeling of ever-present danger at his back, to perceive a touch as anything but danger. But he’d been putting himself next to Aziraphale for a very long time, even if they didn’t touch, so that when they finally did, it hadn’t felt like anything but safe.

Kissing was a very human gesture, and one Crowley hadn’t had much experience with, but it was another kind of closeness, in the end. It felt like a more private kind of closeness, Aziraphale’s lips on his, warm breath intermingling. Once they started, Crowley found it hard to stop.

Right now they were kissing in the back room of the bookshop. They’d had a lovely day: first they went to the cinema, then to lunch at a little Thai restaurant where Aziraphale knew the owners, then back to the bookshop for cuddles and wine.

Well, the intent had been cuddles and wine. They’d gotten the wine part down, but the cuddling was cut short when Aziraphale remembered that he had recently acquired a new old vinyl record, which he’d then played, which had led to dancing, which had led to kissing.

And now here they were.

Everything was just a little too warm from the wine. Crowley could taste it on Aziraphale’s breath. They stood in the middle of the carpet, completely wrapped up in each other even though the music had run out long ago.

Aziraphale nipped Crowley’s lower lip. Crowley hummed approvingly, and Aziraphale put his hands on Crowley’s chest and walked him backwards until his back hit a bookshelf. Aziraphale’s hands drifted down Crowley’s sides.

Aziraphale braced his hands on Crowley’s waist and slipped one of his thumbs under the waistband of Crowley’s pants. Crowley’s breath hitched and he automatically tried to angle his hips back, away from Aziraphale, except he was currently trapped between Aziraphale and a bookshelf.

Aziraphale got the message anyway, and withdrew both hands.

“No?” he said. He didn’t sound hurt, and that relieved Crowley. His tone was gentle, questioning.

Crowley took Aziraphale’s wrists and guided his hands back to his waist. “Just wasn’t expecting it,” he said, which was true enough. This was definitely the closest they’d come to approaching anything sexual between them so far.

Crowley had thought before, in an abstract sort of way, about the two of them being together sexually. Lots of people had sex for lots of different reasons, but Crowley knew that it was, quite frequently, an act of love. And he did so love Aziraphale.

He honestly hadn’t known how or even if to bring it up, but if Aziraphale was initiating, far be it from Crowley to stop him. He leaned back in and pressed their lips together, open-mouthed and searching.

Now that he was kissing with intent, he could feel a tightening between his legs as they went on. His stomach did a funny little flip, remembering all the times this reaction had been elicited unwillingly, but at the same time it did feel… not quite pleasant yet, but there was a suggestion that it could be. Crowley snaked a hand between their bodies and brushed his fingers over Aziraphale’s crotch, and then it was Aziraphale’s turn to pull away.

Crowley tucked his arm against himself. “Hey. You want this, right? You’re not just doing it because you think I want it?”

“No, nothing like that. Well. Not so much like that, anyway,” Aziraphale said. “I do want it, but mostly because I want to take care of you, and to make it good for you.”

Crowley hummed, turning the answer over in his mind, and found that he felt much the same as Aziraphale did on the matter.

“Are you averse?” Aziraphale asked.

“Um… No, I don’t think so,” Crowley said. “Not with you.”

Aziraphale nodded slowly. “And have you ever…?”

“Yes,” Crowley said. “And no.”

Every once in a while, he’d been given orders to tempt some humans into lust. Sometimes it didn’t matter who they had to be tempted into lust _with_, and in those cases Crowley would play a more active role in the temptation than he would have normally preferred. Rather he do it than nudge another human into something they might regret.

Then there was Hell. You didn’t just get punished for failed assignments; any demon could capture and torture another if they wanted. Not everyone did it—not everyone deeply enjoyed being cruel just for the sake of it and in fact just wanted to do their jobs—but everyone was fair game to be subject to it.

As far as torture went, most demons greatly preferred the more physically painful options, but rape had its uses. Crowley had a corporation, and he was stationed on Earth pretty much full-time. They couldn’t rough him up too much. No serious injuries that he wouldn’t be able to easily heal, and nothing that would keep him from doing his job. Rape was good for that.

“Just part of the job description,” Crowley said, aiming for casual. “Never sought it out for pleasure.” Hadn’t thought he _could_ find pleasure in it, not with all his other experiences with it.

But things were different now. He’d never be forced to tempt a human into bed with him again. Never have to endure being raped by demons again. This would be different. This would be with Aziraphale.

“Have you ever?” Crowley asked.

“Yes… and no.” Aziraphale smiled sadly. “Let’s just say that clothes aren’t Gabriel’s only Earthly indulgence.”

Of course it would be Gabriel. Crowley could not be held liable for his actions if he ever saw that twat again.

“Fuck Gabriel,” he muttered.

“It was usually the other way around,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley whined.

“Please don’t joke about it.”

“I’m sorry, dear.”

Crowley burrowed his head under Aziraphale’s chin and pressed soft kisses to his neck.

“Kissing is nice,” Crowley said, muffled.

“I rather like it myself.”

“Sex is probably nice, too.”

“I believe it can be.”

“Lots of humans do it,” Crowley said.

“Lots of humans don’t,” Aziraphale said, not challenging, just reasonably pointing out fact.

“Mm, true. But. I like being close to you. Physically.”

Crowley squirmed, the stark honesty agitating him, but if they’d learned anything since starting—or acknowledging, because in Crowley’s mind it had started long, long ago—this relationship, it was that things progressed a lot better when they used their words. Still made him all twitchy and embarrassed sometimes, though.

“Ngh,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale rubbed soothing circles into Crowley’s back, patiently waiting for him to work out what he wanted to say, and Crowley sighed.

“I know it can be good,” he said. “I want to try and make it good, and you’re the only one I want to do it with.”

“I’ve always thought it seemed like a very sweet way of sharing affection,” Aziraphale said. “And I would like very much to try it with you.”

“Let’s try, then,” Crowley said. He shimmied up from where he was burrowed into Aziraphale’s neck and pressed a close-mouthed kiss to his lips. “We can go slow.”

* * *

They didn’t do anything else that night besides put on a movie and snuggle together under the blanket. They didn’t make any moves to become more physically intimate in the next few weeks, either, though occasionally one of them would bring up a point of discussion about it.

“D’you want me with any particular genitalia?” Crowley asked. “You know I change mine up all the time, so I’m fine with whatever you prefer.”

Aziraphale thought about it for a moment. “Was anything more comfortable for you, when you had sex in the past?”

Crowley grimaced. Whenever he had to lie with humans, he would peek into their minds and assume their preference. It didn’t matter what parts he had, he just tried to make it as quick and painless as possible. With demons, well…

Demons could make anything hurt. And they definitely didn’t make their tortures quick. Which was worse, overstimulating his clit until he was rubbed raw and couldn’t breathe, or fitting him with a cock ring and refusing to grant him release at all?

“Not really,” Crowley said. “You?”

“Not really,” Aziraphale said, looking down.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Well,” Aziraphale said, “I don’t have a preference _what_ parts we have, but perhaps we could have the same? That is to say, I’d like to, ah, explore the new sensations together.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, chest swelling with affection. “Yeah, we can do that.”

* * *

Crowley was tipping his head back and trying to lick the last drops of wine from a bottle, when Aziraphale said, “I know we were a bit tipsy when—the first night we talked about it, but I was thinking. When we do it for real, we should be properly sober.”

Crowley set the bottle down. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. And then, “Bugger.”

“I know,” Aziraphale agreed, mournfully.

* * *

They had a couple more false starts, when kissing led to careful making out, which led to less careful making out, which led to one or the other’s hands drifting too low and the other breaking away with flustered apologies. It seemed that even if they both wanted it, it wouldn’t be so easy to get started.

Finally they decided that the only thing for it was to set a date for the occasion.

* * *

“So,” Crowley said. He stood by his bed, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“So,” Aziraphale said. He stood facing Crowley with his usual impeccable posture.

“I feel stupid,” Crowley said. He had not lived a life of sowing chaos to have _scheduled sex_.

Mostly though, he was nervous.

“It does seem a bit foolish,” Aziraphale said with a little smile.

“Could use a drink.”

“No alcohol, we agreed,” Aziraphale said. He fidgeted with his hands, but only for a moment. “Come here, dear.”

He reached out his hands, and Crowley stepped into his space. Aziraphale cupped his cheeks and firmly pressed their lips together.

This was good. This was familiar. Crowley closed his eyes and kissed Aziraphale three, four, five times. He poked his tongue out, not seeking entry, just a light tease across the seam of Aziraphale’s lips before retreating back inside his mouth.

Aziraphale exhaled softly against his lips. He pressed one more kiss to him, then drew his head back, maintaining the closeness of their bodies.

“You’re lovely,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley’s chest fluttered. “Shut up,” he said. “You don’t need to flatter me into bed with you; I’m already here.”

Aziraphale’s smile was a touch smug, like he was well aware that Crowley turned to goo when Aziraphale complimented him.

“But I like flattering you.”

Crowley huffed indignantly.

“Very well,” Aziraphale said. He put a bit more space between them. “Undress me?”

Aziraphale had already removed some of his layers earlier, so that they were both down to their shirts and pants. Crowley, for his part, usually miracled his own clothes off and on. Aziraphale did not.

Still, Crowley supposed removing them by hand right now would help them pace themselves. Clearly jumping into it hadn’t worked out for them so far. He reached forward and undid the top button of Aziraphale’s shirt, not missing the slight jump in Aziraphale’s throat as he swallowed. He worked his way down the shirt, pausing once to open Aziraphale’s belt so he could untuck it easier.

Aziraphale closed his eyes and sighed as Crowley slipped the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. That was interesting. So maybe it wasn’t just the routine of it Aziraphale liked, but the feel of the fabric gliding across his skin. That made sense, and Crowley filed away the knowledge, then felt a thrill as he realized that there was an entirely new breadth of things he would now get to learn about Aziraphale and what he liked and didn’t like.

“I love you,” he said, not quite able to contain his quiet burst of joy.

Aziraphale blinked his eyes open. His expression flitted through confusion and amusement before quickly settling on fond. “I love you too, dear.”

Crowley bit his lip to temper a smile and focused on removing Aziraphale’s belt, and Aziraphale stepped out of his trousers and pants.

“Look at you, angel,” Crowley breathed, taking in the full of Aziraphale’s form, the rolls of skin at his waist, the sparse white-blonde hairs across his chest and the thicker curls of it trailing down his pubis. He had a vulva, same as Crowley, as they’d agreed on for tonight. “You’re gorgeous.”

Aziraphale tilted his head down and gazed bashfully up at Crowley through his eyelashes. He gestured at Crowley. “May I?”

Crowley spread his arms in a gesture of assent, and Aziraphale went to work unbuttoning Crowley’s top. Miracling the clothes off still seemed like it would be a lot less trouble, but there was something nice about Aziraphale’s reverent focus, the way his gaze sharpened as more of Crowley’s skin was gradually exposed.

Finally they were both standing naked and facing each other. There was a moment’s awkward pause where neither of them seemed to know what to do, then Crowley stepped forward and kissed Aziraphale.

He touched Aziraphale’s cheek, something he’d done many times, but this time the contact felt electric in a way it never had before. Aziraphale gasped softly. He anchored one hand on Crowley’s bare bicep—spark—and the other on his waist—spark—and Crowley realized the difference: that this time the whole of Aziraphale’s body was available to him, unhindered.

Crowley settled a hand on the small of Aziraphale’s back and pulled him close—not quite close that they were touching anywhere but with hands and mouths, but close enough that Crowley could feel the heat dancing between their skin. He flicked his tongue out, and Aziraphale’s mouth opened for him.

“I believe,” Aziraphale said between kisses, “that at this juncture—” Another kiss, “—we can move it to the bed?”

“Mm, good idea,” Crowley said.

He guided Aziraphale to lie down in the middle of the bed and kneeled beside him, one hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, the other on his chest.

“If you need to slow down or stop, or if anything’s unpleasant or uncomfortable, at all, let me know,” Crowley said.

“I will,” Aziraphale said. “And you must promise to tell me too, alright?”

“Promise,” Crowley said, and kissed him.

Kissing felt new and exciting with the added possibilities of skin-to-skin contact. They kissed and kissed, and Crowley ran his hands gently up and down Aziraphale’s torso, never lingering too long on any one spot.

“What do you want?” Crowley asked quietly. “I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Aziraphale said.

He couldn’t guarantee that, though, he _couldn’t_. No matter how much either of them wanted to. And Crowley was suddenly aware of how much he really, really didn’t want to fuck this up. He looked at Aziraphale, desperate and out of his depth.

Thankfully, just because they were trying to use their words more often didn’t mean they always needed to. They’d had millennia of learning to understand each other, to hear what couldn’t be articulated. Just because they couldn’t always respond before didn’t mean they hadn’t been listening.

Aziraphale stroked the hair by Crowley’s temple. “Even if you did hurt me—which I don’t think you will, but if you did—I would tell you, and you would stop, and it would be okay. We’re trying. We’re learning.”

Crowley exhaled a little shakily. “Right,” he said. “What do you want me to do?”

“Touch me,” Aziraphale said. “Kiss me.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

“I can do that,” Crowley whispered, and dipped his head down.

He went slowly, mapping Aziraphale’s delicate skin out with his hands and following with his mouth. Face, neck, arms, chest. He was so soft and warm everywhere, and Crowley pressed lingering kiss after kiss into his skin. When he reached Aziraphale’s abdomen, Aziraphale was trembling beneath him.

“Alright?” Crowley checked Aziraphale’s face.

“Yes, love,” Aziraphale murmured, his eyes closed, and Crowey kept going.

When Crowley kissed the junction where Aziraphale’s pelvis met his thigh, a breathy whimper flew from Aziraphale’s lips. Crowley pressed his forehead to Aziraphale’s thigh. He closed his eyes and slowly exhaled, trying to keep it together. His stomach was a cold mess of nerves, in conflict with the pleasant warm pulsing between his legs.

Crowley lifted his head. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, wonderful,” Aziraphale sighed. “I’m—I’m rather wet, actually. I didn’t know it could get like this on its own. Gabriel, you know, would just take without any sort of preparation. Sometimes I’d do a little miracle to make myself wetter. Help things along, you know.”

Crowley pressed a reassuring kiss to Aziraphale’s hip. “I’d do the same trick with the demons.”

“With the humans too, come to think of it. Not very polite, are they?” Aziraphale said.

Crowley stilled. Some of the warm feelings went away. “I thought it was only Gabriel.”

“Ah,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley crawled up the bed so that they were face-to-face. “Me, I would get orders. But surely Heaven wasn’t asking you to bless anyone with your presence in bed, so why would you have sex with humans if you didn’t want it?”

“We-ell,” Aziraphale said, drawing the word out. “It was only a few times, I assure you. I would come across a human with… ill intentions towards an innocent party, and it was a simple matter to deflect their attention onto me.”

“Aziraphale—”

“It’s easier to shift their attention onto another target than to make them decide to go away entirely,” Aziraphale said, and he sounded defensive now. “I’ve got to reserve those miracles for driving those unpleasant businesspeople from my shop, the ones who want to tear it down and build a retail outlet.”

Crowley could barely work his jaw. “You are so—”

“I already had Gabriel raping me whenever I reported into office, or whenever he popped down for a new bespoke suit,” Aziraphale snapped. “Really, I thought, what difference will a couple humans make? Better than having to explain to Gabriel precisely why I was performing big miracles.”

“Angel,” Crowley said, gut twisting terribly. “I’m sorry. I upset you. I’m sorry.”

The worst part was that Aziraphale wasn’t even wrong. Directly commanding someone’s will was a miracle that definitely called attention from the bosses, and it made sense that Aziraphale would rather get a reprimand for too many little miracles helping lots of people than a big one that helped fewer.

Besides, having to explain to the angel who regularly raped you that you were stopping a rapist didn’t sound like a fun time. Because if Crowley knew Gabriel, and he did, then he probably didn’t even think he was raping Aziraphale. He probably didn’t even understand what rape _was_. To Gabriel, the two of them were indulging in an Earthly pleasure not so different from sharing a meal.

Those self-righteous pricks in their distant offices had no idea about humans and trust and intimacy. At least the bastards in Hell knew exactly what they were doing to Crowley when they raped him.

That was all past now. It wouldn’t happen again. Crowley focused on Aziraphale and forced the boil of his rage down to a simmer. He brushed Aziraphale’s cheek with his thumb. “You know, I like that you go out of your way to help people. Even if it means using too many frivolous miracles, or doing something you don’t really want to do.”

So long as the thing he didn’t want to do was a minor inconvenience and nothing more serious than that.

Aziraphale no longer looked upset, but his mouth turned down doubtfully. “You’re saying you like me doing good.”

“Well, it pisses Heaven off,” Crowley said with a grin. “Can’t get worse than that.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“But you don’t answer to that lot anymore,” Crowley said. “So next time, please just make the would-be rapist decide they’d love nothing more than to fuck off?”

“I was planning on it,” Azirapahle said. “Although I thought you didn’t like imposing on people’s wills?”

Crowley didn’t. Hell wouldn’t give a shit if he did it, but it gave him a slimy feeling. His whole thing was tempting people, not forcing them.

“For those people, I will happily make an exception,” he said. “Also, I’m sorry. Again.”

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale said. “It’s an upsetting topic for both of us.”

Crowley smiled uncertainly. “Didn’t kill the mood, did I?”

Aziraphale stroked a hand down Crowley’s chest. “I’m sure we can salvage it.”

Crowley scooted closer, and Aziraphale enfolded him in his arms and met him with a kiss. And suddenly Crowley was alight all over as their bodies pressed flush together with no barrier of clothing, just warm skin on skin. Every movement, every slight shift of Aziraphale’s body against his sent sparks dancing across Crowley’s skin.

Experimentally, Crowley slid his knee between Aziraphale’s legs. He brushed carefully against Aziraphale’s crotch, but it was Aziraphale who pushed down against him, incrementally adding pressure. Crowley’s breath left him in a stutter when the movement rubbed some of Aziraphale’s slick on his thigh. At the same time, Aziraphale let out a long, low moan.

“Fuck. Can I touch you?” Crowley whispered. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Yes, _yes_.” Aziraphale rolled onto his back and let his legs fall apart.

Crowley kneeled between Aziraphale’s legs. He didn’t just want to touch; he wanted to see. And what a pretty sight it was, Aziraphale’s labia swollen and glistening and inviting. With two careful fingers, Crowley parted those inner lips and slipped between them.

Aziraphale shuddered and lifted his hips from the bed, and Crowley swallowed against a suddenly dry throat, cunt clenching in tandem.

Crowley rubbed slowly up and down, coating his fingers in Aziraphale’s slick, and felt himself getting wetter in response. He probed Aziraphale’s entrance, and Aziraphale made sound like _uunh_. Crowley pressed the tip of his finger in.

Aziraphale’s gasp this time had a sharper edge to it.

“Oh, don’t,” he said, and Crowley withdrew immediately.

“Angel,” Crowley started, practically throwing himself to Aziraphale’s side.

“Sorry,” Aziraphale gasped. “Sorry, dear. I’m alright. It seems… perhaps we should try penetration at a later date.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Crowley said. Aziraphale looked more chagrined than distressed, which was just typical of him. He studied every line of Aziraphale’s face anyway, looking for any hidden signs of discomfort. “Later, or never. Anything. Do you want to stop right now?”

“No,” Aziraphale said. “It was good. When you were rubbing—that was good.”

Crowley dragged his tongue over his lower lip. “Okay.”

This time, Crowley stayed beside Aziraphale as he slid his hand between Aziraphale’s legs, pressing kisses to his lips, his jaw, beneath his ear. Aziraphale was still hot and wet for him, and he sighed when Crowley resumed his slow rubbing.

“Yes, that’s good,” Aziraphale breathed. “Oh—_oh_!”

Aziraphale’s entire body jerked as Crowley dragged his fingers up a little higher and found Aziraphale’s clit, hard and swollen.

“Oh, oh, right there, that’s, yes,” Aziraphale babbled.

He threw his arms around Crowley, and a breath punched its way out of Crowley’s lungs. His cunt clenched hungrily as Aziraphale moaned encouragements into his ear, and Crowley narrowed the focus of his rubbing to Aziraphale’s clit. He caught it between his fingers and squeezed.

“Oh, my dear, love, Crowley—”

Crowley wasn’t sure when he’d stopped kissing Aziraphale, only that he was now panting wetly against his ear. He rubbed up and down, clit sliding between his fingers, moving faster as Aziraphale shuddered harder beneath him.

“Crowley, Crowley, Crowleycrowley_crowley_—!”

Aziraphale’s hips arched up from the bed as he climaxed. He clamped his hands hard around Crowley’s shoulders.

Crowley wrapped one arm around Aziraphale’s broad back. The other he held still between Aziraphale’s legs until Aziraphale let out a long exhale and lowered his hips back to the bed. Then he carefully extricated his fingers.

Aziraphale exhaled gustily. “That was wonderful, Crowley. Really, truly wonderful.” He pressed a long, hard kiss to his lips.

“Yeah?” Crowley said, a bit winded. “Good.”

Aziraphale smiled at him, and he looked so bright and soft and happy, Crowley’s chest ached with tenderness. He wiped his fingers on the bed sheets, although they were already drying out, and brushed his knuckles over Aziraphale’s cheek.

“I love you so much,” Crowley said.

“I love you,” Aziraphale said. “And I believe it’s now my turn to take care of you. How should you like it?”

“Mmh… Show me, show me what you liked,” Crowley said.

“Is that what you want?”

“Mmhm.”

“Alright,” Aziraphale said.

He gently pushed Crowley’s shoulder until he was lying on his back, then crawled over him.

“I liked it when you kissed me here—” He kissed beneath Crowley’s ear, “—and here,” his clavicle. He took one of Crowley’s hands and pressed a kiss to the back of each finger, then his palm, then one more, long and lingering, to the pulsepoint on his wrist. “And I liked it when you did that.”

Crowley tried to make an encouraging sound, but it came out as more of a whimper. Aziraphale took Crowley’s other hand and gave it the same treatment as the first. When he was done, he interlaced their fingers.

Aziraphale lowered his head to Crowley’s chest. “I rather liked this as well,” he murmured, lips brushing Crowley’s nipple, and Crowley twitched a bit violently.

“Can you—I don’t know,” Crowley groaned, “lick it, bite it, touch it, just—something.”

Obligingly, Aziraphale laved his tongue, warm and wet, over Crowley’s nipple, and Crowley shuddered. He pulled his knees up until he could brace his feet flat against the mattress. Aziraphale curled his tongue around Crowley’s other nipple, and Crowley pressed his legs into Aziraphale’s sides and whined.

Aziraphale gave Crowley’s nipple a gentle suck and then a kiss before rising up, and Crowley bit his lip as the air cooled and dried the spit. His cunt throbbed.

Aziraphale disentangled their fingers. He shuffled back a bit and gently pushed one of Crowley’s knees down to straighten his leg.

“I also liked it when you kissed me right here,” Aziraphale said, and pressed his lips to the junction of Crowley’s pelvis and thigh. “Perhaps next time you could also try kissing here.” He nudged Crowley’s leg to spread further, and kissed his inner thigh, drifting closer and closer to his soaking cunt.

Crowley exhaled harshly. “Yes, that feels amazing and I will absolutely kiss you there next time,” he said quickly, “but I think you should really get your fingers on me now.”

Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s labia, and Crowley just _knew_ he could feel Aziraphale’s tongue flick out for a taste before he lifted his head and smiled innocently in response to Crowley’s startled, “Fuck!”

“Come here, you sneaky bastard,” Crowley said. “Can’t trust your mouth near my cunt, apparently.”

Not that he was averse to the idea of Aziraphale eating him out, but they’d agreed to stick to using their fingers for this first time. And Aziraphale was the one who’d brought up the whole exploring these brand new sensations together thing.

“Oh, but you got to look,” Aziraphale said, still the picture of innocence. “I’d like to look.”

Crowley snorted, though in his heart he was feeling gooey and fond. “Alright, then. Go on.”

Aziraphale stroked his hand over Crowley’s inner thighs. Crowley felt a tingle of anticipation, and then Aziraphale dipped his fingers between the wet folds of Crowley’s cunt.

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale breathed. “You feel marvelous.”

Crowley, whose brain was currently short-circuiting, his cunt clenching over and over on nothing, could only manage something that sounded like _nnnn_ in response.

Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s thigh as he rubbed his fingers up and down. “Do you want me to try putting my fingers in?”

“Um, uh.” Crowley tried to stick words together in his brain and push them out his mouth. “Yeah, okay. Not too—not too many.”

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Aziraphale said.

His finger slid down to Crowley’s hole, then slowly pushed in.

“Alright?” Aziraphale asked after a moment, and Crowley released an unconsciously held breath.

“Yeah,” he said. It didn’t feel at all bad, just one finger, though he wasn’t sure if it was doing anything for him either.

Aziraphale wriggled his finger around experimentally. “I’m going to put one more in,” he said. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Aziraphale was even slower and more careful easing his second finger in. The pressure inside him was more evident now with two fingers, but it didn’t hurt. Crowley’s shoulders relaxed. He hadn’t even realized they’d been tense.

Aziraphale sank both fingers in a bit deeper. Crowley could feel Aziraphale crook his fingers inside of him. His face was twisted in comical concentration, and Crowley was about to tease him for it when Aziraphale pressed against that sweet spot inside him and Crowley fucking _whimpered_.

He drew his knees up and dug his heels into the bed as Aziraphale began moving his fingers in slow thrusts, making sure to hit that spot again and again.

“Nnh, _oh_, that’s nice,” Crowley breathed. But it still wasn’t enough. “Can you—my clit—”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said. He brought his other hand in for the task.

Crowley tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Can you do it… not too hard, and not too fast, but not too slow, like, don’t drag it out too long. Ugh. That didn’t make sense. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, dear,” Aziraphale said firmly. “I’ll try, but as this is rather subjective, you’ll have to let me know if I should do anything differently.”

He started rubbing Crowley’s clit, up and down for a few seconds before switching to circles.

“Is this alright?”

“That pressure’s good,” Crowley said. “Um, you can go a little faster—yeah—_ah_—”

Words were lost to him, then. Aziraphale thrusted his fingers inside him and rubbed circles over his clit and Crowley whined helplessly as he was tugged along towards orgasm. But even as he felt helpless, he felt _safe_. Because it was Aziraphale, and because Aziraphale was being so careful not to press inside Crowley too hard, or rub his clit too roughly. Aziraphale was taking care of him, and the stimulation felt good in a way it never had before, and Crowley spasmed frantically around Aziraphale, jerking his hips and whimpering, until he crested the wave of his arousal with a hoarse cry.

He squeezed his eyes shut and curled his toes and shook his way through the orgasm, mind bleached white like a flash grenade had gone off. His body twitched with a final surge of pleasure.

His legs flopped to the bed, still bent at the knees, and his chest heaved with deep breaths. He felt boneless, uncoiled.

Aziraphale slid his fingers out. The bed dipped as he moved to lie beside Crowley. “Was that good, my love?”

“It was amazing, angel,” Crowley said, reaching out blindly to pat Aziraphale. It felt like he landed on his shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

Crowley cracked his eyes open when Aziraphale didn’t respond. Aziraphale was looking at his own fingers with interest, and possibly not listening to Crowley. As Crowley watched, he slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked.

“Oi,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale dragged his fingers out slowly. They glistened obscenely with his saliva.

“Just wanted a taste,” he said. “I hope next time I can taste you even more.”

“Oh, already thinking of next time, are we? Already over this one, was it not satisfying enough for you?” Crowley teased, even as he felt a jolt of nervous excitement at the idea of _next time_.

“On the contrary, it was very satisfying,” Aziraphale said. He wiped his hand on the sheets and held his arms open invitingly.

Crowley slid easily into the space between Aziraphale’s arms, molded his body around his soft curves.

“We didn’t do too bad, did we?” Aziraphale said. He stroked Crowley’s hair.

Crowley laughed lightly. “No, we didn’t. It was—really great, actually.”

“I’d worried—I knew it could be good, but I’d worried if it couldn’t be good for _me_.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “I know what you mean.”

“I tried to tell myself it would be fine if it wasn’t good,” Aziraphale said. “We don’t need it, certainly. But, oh, Crowley. It makes me so happy to have something else to share with you. A whole new breadth of things I get to discover about you.”

A smile overtook Crowley’s face as Aziraphale unknowingly echoed his own thoughts from earlier.

Really, Crowley thought, Aziraphale must be the only being in the universe who truly understood him. How could a demon get so lucky?

And he was looking forward to their next time, too. Looking forward to memorizing all the best places to touch Aziraphale, to kiss him; learning how to draw exact moans and whimpers from his lips. And all the while Aziraphale would be discovering the same things about Crowley, things Crowley didn’t even know about himself, about how he liked to be touched, what made him moan.

“We’ll discover it all together,” Crowley said.

And they would. Carefully, and lovingly.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! much love <3 <3
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/qorktree) / [tumblr](https://qorktrees.tumblr.com/)


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